


Tales and Trinkets

by octopus_fool



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Horror, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 02:56:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopus_fool/pseuds/octopus_fool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Various scenes and snippets about various characters from The Hobbit. In other words, mostly short prompt fills that don't quite merit being posted as stand-alones.</p><p>Any warnings will also be added to the individual chapters.</p><p>1 - Scones and Silverware: domestic Dís/Lobelia fluff<br/>2 - I Cannot Swim the Distance: Bilbo finds out that dwarves have an unusual way of crossing rivers<br/>3 - Blue: Thorin/Thranduil; Not even kings are dignified when in love.<br/>4 - Blood and Kisses: Thorin/Bilbo, something awful for Halloween. Chapter warnings: character death, horror, some blood</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scones and Silverware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A domestic little moment between Dís and Lobelia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://leinthalexandra.dreamwidth.org/999.html?thread=1511#cmt1511) on the [Dís Comment Fic Meme](http://leinthalexandra.dreamwidth.org/999.html).

Dís sniffed the air as she closed the door to the smial behind her and took off her heavy boots.

“That smells delicious. What is it?” She asked as she entered the parlour.

Dís reached towards the cloth covering the basket on the table only to have her hands smacked away.

“I won’t have your grimy hands on these scones before you’ve washed them.” Lobelia’s face was stern, but a slight crinkle at the corners of her eyes betrayed her.

“As you command, my lady,” Dís grinned and trudged through the open kitchen door to do as she was told. “It’s scones then, is it? I thought you didn’t like baking. What changed your mind?”

Lobelia scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I didn’t bake them myself. But if I can’t get that good for nothing Baggins out of Bag End, I can at least take his scones.”

Dís returned to the table, her hands perfunctorily scrubbed. 

“And of course his silverware,” Dís added, gesturing at the spoons Lobelia was using to smother a scone in clotted cream and strawberry jam.

Lobelia grinned. “I doubt he even notices these are missing. Wait, not so fast!”

Lobelia dropped the scone onto a plate and grabbed Dís’ hands to examine them. She tutted and shook her head.

“These are still filthy. If I hadn’t seen you, I wouldn’t believe you’ve washed them at all. You’re really not leaving me a choice, are you?”

Lobelia pushed Dís down into a chair, sat down in her lap and reached out for the scone.

Dís grinned at her wife around a mouthful of the treat. There was no better way to enjoy stolen scones than directly from Lobelia’s hand.


	2. I Cannot Swim the Distance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finds out that dwarves have an unusual way of crossing rivers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/7346.html?thread=16211890#t17725874) at the Hobbit Kink Meme.

Bilbo sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sun was already fairly high in the sky but only a few of the dwarves were up or stirring. They had all desperately needed their rest after escaping from goblins, wargs and Azog the previous day and Gandalf had said they would still reach his friend’s house before nightfall even if they slept late.

Bilbo stretched and made his way to the river. He stank of goblin filth and smoke and couldn’t wait for a nice bath. It was a warm day so his clothes would hopefully dry quickly.

When Bilbo reached the small stretch of shore, he realised he wasn’t alone. Kíli was in the river with water up to his chin and waved at him.

Bilbo frowned. Didn’t Kíli know how dangerous water could be? There were plenty of tales about hobbits drowning. Bilbo, like any sensible hobbit, made sure to stay well away from deep water. But of course, these dwarves had no common sense at all. 

Bilbo chewed on his lips. Should he call out a warning and risk being mocked again after he had finally been accepted by all the dwarves? But then, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

He opened his mouth to call, but Kíli ploughed forward at that moment, completely disappearing under the surface. Bilbo gasped and remembered that some Men, risk-taking fools that they were, liked pretending to drown themselves by doing what they called “diving”. Perhaps dwarves knew the same trick.

Bilbo shuffled his feet nervously. Occasionally, small groups of bubbles rose to the surface. Surely, Kíli should not be taking this long to resurface? Bilbo couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

“Help! I think Kíli is drowning!” He shouted when a larger burst of bubbles broke the surface. He ran back towards the camp as quickly as he could.

The dwarves came rushing and Bilbo led them back to the river.

“What happened? Where is he?”Thorin demanded, worry in his voice.

“He just walked out into the river and didn’t come back to the surface! I wanted to stop him, but I was too late.”

“Did he show any signs of distress? How long has he been below the surface?” Dori asked.

“No, but he has been in there for at least five minutes!”

“Then why would you think he’s drowning, laddie?” Balin looked puzzled.

“Surely he can’t survive under water for that long! No, don’t do that! Stay here! You’ll get yourself killed as well!” 

Fíli was barging into the river as well and took no notice of Bilbo’s frantic yells.

“Thorin, do something! You can’t just let both of your heirs drown themselves!” Bilbo said, urgently tugging at Thorin’s arm as Fíli disappeared into the river as well.

“He’s just going in to see if everything is alright with Kíli. And Kíli ought to have at least enough breath left for another half an hour. I don’t know why you are making such a fuss about it. You make it sound as though Kíli is dying when he is probably only crossing the river to see if there is a path on the other side.”

“But... you’d use a bridge to cross a river, or take a boat or swim if you are feeling very adventurous! You don’t just...”

There was a loud splash and Fíli’s head emerged from the river.  
“Everything’s fine! He’s almost on the other side. No sign of any trouble.”

Bilbo gaped. “What? But how?”

“Don’t hobbits ever just walk through the river if there is no bridge?” Dwalin asked.

“Not if it is deeper than our knees and definitely not if it goes above our heads! No hobbit wants to drown!” 

“But you can just hold your breath, can’t you?” Nori asked.

“Not for five minutes or more! I think I could barely hold my breath for one or two minutes.”

The dwarves exchanged looks. 

“Let’s hope the river is not too deep, then,” Bofur said. “Or else it’s likely that...”

Bombur jabbed him in the side with his elbow. “I thought you wanted to stop frightening our burglar.”

“Oh, right.”

Bilbo huffed. “That’s very reassuring. If there are risks, I would like to know them.”

There was another, more distant splash and Kíli resurfaced on the other side of the river with a wide grin and a wave. He made some dwarvish gestures after he had waded to the shore and Fíli replied in the same way. 

“He says the river is shallow enough that Bilbo’s head will stay above the water if one of us carries him on their shoulders and Gandalf won’t have any problems either. There’s a path on the other shore like Gandalf said as well as some raspberries, so we won’t have to go hungry entirely. I just hope that greedy brickhead leaves a few for us.”

“We should break camp,” Thorin decided. “There’s no use in staying here any longer than necessary.”

They packed up their few meagre belongings, tied together three logs of driftwood and fastened the belongings and weapons to them so they wouldn’t get too wet. Dori, Balin, Bifur and Glóin were chosen to pull the makeshift raft across the river. 

“Climb onto my shoulders, lad,” Dwalin said. 

Bilbo hesitated. “Is there really no other way?”

“Dwalin is the tallest, you’ll be least likely to drown if he is the one carrying you,” Fíli said. 

“I don’t think you have any other options,” Nori said. “Unless, of course, you see a bridge, want to walk through the river yourself or go with the baggage.”

Bilbo cast a taxing look at the logs. They looked stable enough for what little baggage they had, but he didn’t really want to trust them with his life.

“I think I prefer Dwalin’s shoulders,” Bilbo mumbled.

The following few minutes once again made Bilbo wish he had never left his comfortable smial. The water flowed rather more swiftly than it had seemed to from the shore and Bilbo tried not to think about what would happen if Dwalin lost foot or if the current swept Bilbo away. At one point, the water almost came up to Bilbo’s mouth. He closed his eyes and swayed on Dwalin’s shoulders, desperately trying not to lose hold.

When he finally climbed down in the shallow water on the other side with trembling knees, Bilbo realised that he had pulled out quite a few strands of the already sparse hair at the sides of Dwalin’s head.

“I am so very sorry,” Bilbo stammered. “I did not mean to...”

Dwalin grunted and strode over to the raspberry bushes, his boots squelching with every step and his clothes dripping. 

“Don’t worry,” Kíli said, sitting down next to Bilbo on a boulder. “He’s not really angry. He’s had worse than that. My mother always says the reason he has so little hair in the first place is because Fíli and I pulled out so much of it when we were dwarflings and he gave us piggy-back rides.”

Bilbo had to chuckle despite himself.

“Besides,” Kíli added, “you didn’t drown and that’s worth something, isn’t it?”

He handed Bilbo a pouch and Bilbo looked inside.  
“Raspberries?”

Kíli shrugged and rubbed his ear.  
“As a little apology for earlier. I didn’t realise hobbits couldn’t cross rivers that way. I didn’t mean to make you worry, so I thought the least I could do was make sure you got breakfast before the others ate every single berry that could be found.”

Bilbo glanced at the raspberry bushes. They were indeed looking rather empty already.

“Thank you,” Bilbo smiled. Some nice, sweet berries were exactly what he needed in order to calm down.


	3. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even kings are dignified when in love. (Thorin/Thranduil)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/8478.html?thread=18399518#t18399518) on the Hobbit Kink Meme.

When Fíli and Kíli entered the royal dining room, Thorin and Dís were almost finished with their breakfast but there was still a wide variety of bread and pastries left, alongside porridge, eggs, sausages, butter, honey and fruit. Kíli grinned when he saw Thorin was wearing a dark blue cloak trimmed with grey fur over a dark grey tunic. 

“Good morning. So when is your meeting with Thranduil?” Kíli asked, sitting down across from his uncle.

Thorin looked up from his nearly empty plate. “Good morning. I’m meeting King Thranduil to discuss a new trade agreement right after breakfast. It’s nothing that requires the entire council, so it’s just me and a few of our leading merchants and craftsmen meeting the elves. It probably won’t take long either, only this morning and one or two hours after lunch. How did you know?”

“You’re wea-“

Fíli, who had sat down beside him and grabbed a pastry, interrupted Kíli with a little kick beneath the table. “You were talking about it the other day when we were all a bit deep in our cups.”

“Was I?” Thorin furrowed his brows slightly. “I can’t remember that. I suppose I must have been more drunk than I had thought. Well, I ought to leave soon if I want to be on time to greet King Thranduil and his delegation. I expect you two will be present for lunch?”

Kíli nodded and smothered a slice of bread in butter and honey. “I believe so, even if you are springing elves on us.”

Dís frowned. “Be polite, even if they are elves. Guests are guests, be they elves, men or dwarves. And don’t forget that Mirkwood is one of our most important trade partners.”

Kíli snorted. “Don’t worry. We are no longer little dwarflings, despite your tendency to forget that.”

“Well, perhaps you ought to act your age more often,” Thorin pointed out.

He got up and checked his braids in the mirror one last time. Fíli suppressed a grin and filled some porridge into a bowl, adding a generous handful of dried berries.  
“Your hair looks fine. You should go now if you don’t want to leave Thranduil waiting.”

“I wasn’t... I thought I felt an insect landing there and wanted to make sure it was gone.”

“There’s nothing there, just your majestic locks. Don’t worry, even an elf would be impressed by your hair.” Dís gave her brother a much too innocent smile.

Thorin glared at his family one last time and left, closing the door with slightly more force than necessary. Fíli and Kíli burst into laughter the moment the door slammed shut behind him. Dís at least tried to hide her amusement by pretending to take sip of tea, but the sounds of mirth from behind her cup were quite unmistakable.

“He’s got it bad, doesn’t he?” Kíli said, reaching for another slice of bread and an egg. 

Fíli nodded. “It’s starting to get a bit embarrassing.”

“Now boys,” Dís tutted. “Let Thorin try to impress King Thranduil in whatever ways he sees fit.”

Kíli grimaced. “I just wish he’d keep it out of our faces.” He fluttered his eyelashes and began simpering. “King Thrandy, does my hair look pretty? Look, King Thrandy, I even braided it in elvish style and I’m wearing your favourite shade of blue again!” 

“You’re one to talk, the way you and O-“

Kíli flicked a piece of eggshell at Fíli to shut him up and glanced nervously at Dís. “Oi, you promised not to tell...”

“Stop it, boys,” Dís interrupted, pretending not to know what their argument was about.

“But he kicked me earlier!” Kíli pointed out. “What was that about anyway?”

“You know Thorin likes to think he’s subtle and mysterious, so you don’t want to announce that everybody knows why he wears blue.”

Kíli doubled over laughing and almost got yolk in his eyebrow. “ _Subtle?!_ How does Thorin even begin to think he’s anything but obvious? A rockslide is more subtle than he is!”

Fíli rolled his eyes. “Tell me about it. But you know how he’d get if we spoiled his illusion.”

Kíli nodded.

 

“That is quite a splendid cloak you are wearing, King Thorin,” Thranduil remarked, heaping some more roast duck onto his plate. “The blue brings out the colour of your eyes beautifully.”

Fíli choked on the ale he was drinking. Dís glared at him as Kíli thumped him on the back. The fair-haired elf next to Thranduil shifted uncomfortably.

Thorin hadn’t noticed his nephews’ antics, completely focussed on Thranduil as he was. His face was turning a delicate pink at the compliment. 

“Thank you, King Thranduil, you are far too kind. Nothing could ever compare to the beauty of the flowers in your crown. You look like one of the kings of legend, crowned with stars. Tell me, are those flowers from your realm? I have never had the pleasure of seeing your realm in spring time.”

“They are indeed. You must truly come for a visit in spring; I would be honoured to have you as my guest. The flowering trees are a sight to behold, as are the blossoms sprouting up from the ground.”

Kíli quietly made gagging sounds.

Fíli shuddered as well. “Remember when he would rant for hours about how awful elves are? I’m starting to miss those days.”

The kicks Dís gave them under the table were well-aimed and hard. Years of practice against brothers and cousins had done their job.

As Fíli and Kíli surreptitiously rubbed their shins, Dís and Dwalin exchanged looks and shook their heads in disbelief. They had never thought they would live to see Thorin listen enrapturedly to an elf giving a detailed explanation of woodland flowers.


	4. Blood and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin/Bilbo, something awful for Halloween. Chapter warnings: character death, horror, some blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is horror. And not the cutesy kind. Don't be fooled by the other chapters: I do dark as well. I mean the warning.
> 
> (If you're prone to seeing noncon-ish elements in things, you could read a slight hint of that into this as well, even if I didn't write that in intentionally.)

Bilbo couldn’t tear his gaze away from Thorin’s eyes. His face was pale beneath the crust of blood and dirt. 

“Would you do one last thing for me?” Thorin’s voice was so quiet Bilbo had to lean over him to understand. “But no, you have done too much for me already…”

“What is it?” Bilbo asked.

“Would… would you kiss me?”

Bilbo blinked more rapidly to keep the tears from falling. He gently brushed a blood-soaked strand of hair behind Thorin’s ear, carefully running his hand down to cradle Thorin’s face. Bilbo closed his eyes and leaned in. His lips brushed Thorin’s cracked ones.

Thorin sighed softly and the small gust of air ghosted across Bilbo’s skin. Thorin pushed back against Bilbo’s lips and Bilbo kissed him more firmly. The metallic taste of blood briefly registered in Bilbo’s mind as he parted his lips, but it quickly faded into the background as Thorin opened his mouth as well. 

Thorin brought a hand up to the back of Bilbo’s head and pulled him towards him with more strength than Bilbo thought he had left. Bilbo felt weak in his knees and quickly shifted more of his weight onto the field-bed as they deepened the kiss.

After a while, Bilbo felt the arm he was propping himself up on go numb. He pulled back in order to shift to a more comfortable position, but Thorin just pulled him closer.  
Bilbo made a muffled sound of protest and then froze. Something long and scaly was slithering past Thorin’s tongue. It began wrapping itself around Bilbo’s tongue and Bilbo frantically tried to shove Thorin away. He attempted to pull his tongue back, to bite the scaly intruder. It was all to no avail. 

Thorin’s hands were clasping Bilbo’s head too tightly, his arms bracing Bilbo’s back. Bilbo kicked and flailed, but all energy was draining from him. He choked and gagged as it slithered into his throat, expanding and pressing on his windpipe. 

Darkness quickly crept in from the edge of Bilbo’s senses. It rushed in as all light drained towards the sucking void at the back of his throat. And then everything went black.

 

Thorin blinked. 

Something was different. The pain was gone and he felt almost weightless. Invincible. 

There was also something niggling at the back of his mind. It smelled of pipe-smoke, flowers and pastries.  
Thorin prodded at the thought. It _whimpered_. 

Cautiously, Thorin nudged the thought once again. Something dark unfurled, hissing and screeching. Thorin recoiled. The taste of blood shot through his mouth. He nearly gagged.

A couple of deep breaths later, Thorin became aware of the sounds drifting in from outside the tent. Healers were trying to sooth warriors screaming in pain as their battle-injuries were treated. There was the smell of mud and blood, but it wasn’t quite as overwhelming.

Something heavy lay draped across his chest. Thorin opened his eyes. It was his hobbit, motionless and pale. Thorin carefully shook his shoulder.

“Bilbo?”


End file.
